


Rose Gardens

by aminathescorpio



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguity, Angst and Feels, Angsty Harry Potter, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dark, Dark Romance, Drabble, Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flowers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, I'm Bad At Titles, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, POV Second Person, Pining Harry Potter, Sad-ish, Slightly Dark Harry, i dunno, possessive thoughts, slightly ambiguous ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminathescorpio/pseuds/aminathescorpio
Summary: Silver eyes glance upwards, sharp as steel and twice as beautiful as you overhear the soft cadence of the blonde’s gentle whispers as he utters them to a small butterfly attached to his chest.You can hardly breathe. The flutter of wings are the accompaniment to your realization that you are completely, utterly, irrevocably in love.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Tumblr Drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114712
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Rose Gardens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fae_vorite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fae_vorite/gifts).



> Hello again! This was inspired by a very lovely piece of art by Fae again :D. The words in bold are from her original prompt.

(I)

The rose gardens of Malfoy Manor are in full bloom, despite the fact that it is winter. The crisp, snow white petals do not fall off of their stems. The lush green hedges do not shrivel up and wither under the cold breezes and the harsh temperatures of the winter. Everything is alive, perfect and synthetic. Nothing will ever cause the roses to die, and they will live for an eternity, for as long as the Malfoy name continues to exist.

You touch one of the roses curiously. They are stiff and formal against the rough, blistered skin of your fingertip. The shape remains perfect, and the thorns don’t pierce your skin when you pluck the flower off of the leafy hedge. Immediately the stem breaks, another one grows in its place, as artificial and perfect and cold as the rest.

You drop the rose onto the floor and step on it as you walk into the maze, crushing its firm petals beneath your feet. You do not look back as you step under the rusted iron gate, but you are sure that the flower is still in pristine condition.

The soft sliver of moonlight illuminates your path, glinting off of the metal poles that stick out of the hedges in sharpened points. Unnaturally green hedges. Just as fake as the roses. Just as fake as everything in this garden. Beautiful, pristine, and _fake_.

You walk faster, suddenly desperate to escape all of the insincerity and the imitation and the _deceit_ that the garden proudly shows off. You know that there is only one real thing in this garden, and it is not you. _You_ are just a boy with a scar, a used tool, a glorified hero, a useful plot device in the grand story of life. The real thing is not you.

When you get to the center of the garden, you stop. Not because of fear, but because you are overcome with _wonder._

**The wind slides with a soft woosh through his gossamer robes while moonlight dances across his skin like a poem. In that moment with a shuddered breath, your heart seems to stop.**

**Silver eyes glance upwards, sharp as steel and twice as beautiful as you overhear the soft cadence of the blonde’s gentle whispers as he utters them to a small butterfly attached to his chest.**

**You can hardly breathe. The flutter of wings are the accompaniment to your realization that you are completely, utterly, irrevocably in love.**

It hits you like a truck, like a blow to your side. You’ve fallen into the slippery grasp of love, and there is no going back.

He does not say anything, but he observes you almost curiously. The soft breeze gently lifts his delicate hair from his shoulders, sending the butterfly off into flight once more. The moonbeams and starglows from the heavens create an aura around him. He is an angel, and you are a devil, and you are going to _ruin_ him. You want to claw at your skin with your blunt nails and hold him closeclose _close_ to you and keep him _forever_ in your unrelenting grasp. There is no escape for him, or for you.

You don’t mind. You know that he doesn’t either.

He smiles at you. You smile back and know that he is yours for all of eternity.


End file.
